


Dark, Dim, Light

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 23:51:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5889934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>"I don't know what to say... but I am here."</p>
</blockquote><hr/><p>Fenris visits the Hawke manor after the events of "All that Remains".<br/>Extended snippet of what happened after the fade-to-black in the scene. H/C.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark, Dim, Light

He would not sleep on this night.

In truth, Hawke suspected that he would not sleep for many nights to come, as he would be awake with the image of his mother's glassy eyes and the stitched up wound across her throat as she died in his arms. Devoid of life, cold to the touch beneath his calloused hands, and still, she had faded away beneath his hands. He had been able to do nothing except apologize and drink in her final words, desperate to hang onto her final breaths as she spoke. Desperate... so much so.

He stared at his hands as he sat on the edge of the bed. It had been long now since he had arrived to his home; he had long since washed the blood from his hands and tried to chase away the feeling of his magic surging uncontrollably through his fingers as he tried to fight off the swarm if only to get to his mother. As if he could help her... but he had tried. Just as he had washed the blood from his hands, and yet, he could still feel it there, warm on his skin, dripping down his wrists, hear the cries of the victims that had been called forth.

He could still feel the weight of his Mother's body cradled against his chest as he carried her from that unforgiving underground. He could still hear the footsteps of his companions, nearly hear the words that they were not saying. He had broken from the group as he went back to his manor, he had taken his mother's body to her room, had been confronted by Gamlen, and then had gone to his own room.

There was no escape from it, however, and Hawke felt world weary for the first time in a long time. He had been through a lot, some of the worst and some of the most stupid, but tonight? He had no energy for any of it, any longer.

"I don't know what to say... but I am here."

The gravely voice made Hawke wince, the sudden voice in the darkness making the pain in his head increase. He had not even heard the elf approach, but he was so good at being silent when it mattered.

Hawke did not know whether he longed for silence, or the lull of his friend's voice in the flicker light of the fire. Even after the uncertainty regarding their relationship, even now, he did not know the bounds of what was happening between them... and despite it all, he was grateful for Fenris's presence.

"Just say something," Hawke said after a moment. "Anything." If only to break the silence, and scatter the thoughts in his mind. Only for a moment, perhaps.

Fenris reasserted his silence, crossing the room slowly. He was grasping for words; Hawke could practically hear him think. "They say Death is only a journey," he said slowly, as he came to a stop in front of Hawke. "Does that help?"

A journey? Mother had never been one for journeying, but she faired well on the journeys that Life had thrown them into nonetheless. Hawke had no doubt that his mother would handle this journey with just as much grace and tact as she had any of the tribulations they had been through in the past. "I suppose," he replied. "They say you go back to the Maker when you die." That was, at least, a comforting thought. She could be whole, and unbeaten, and unbroken, and she would be with their father, and Bethany again.

She could be happy, with her family. Even if he had no one, save Carver, he was not alone. A glance to the side as Fenris sat down on the bed next to him proved it, even if it was not something that was engrained into his body and soul.

"I've heard that, too," Fenris replied. A small pause, and then "To be honest, I don't think there's much point in filling these moments with empty talk".

Trust Fenris to speak bluntly. Hawke almost smiled, had he felt like it. He shared a look with the elf and then nodded. He was right. Many times, Fenris was right. Hawke didn't know what he'd do without him, truly.

And while he had begged for the silence to end, it was almost more companionable to let it envelope them again.

Fenris made no move to leave.

Hawke felt the hours slip by in a sort of trance-like state, as he stared first towards the fire and then the top of the canopy as he laid back, arms beneath his head. His companion moved in tandem with him, leaning against the support first, and then readjusting himself to the head of the bed to sit against the headboard.

He must have dozed at some point, because he startled awake- no, startled was exactly the right word. He merely had no recollection of closing his eyes, and then blinking them open to look around the room and remember, in a stupor, that his mother was gone.

Fenris was looking at him, and Hawke did not know how long he had been. "You should sleep," the elf said, and again Hawke wanted to laugh.

"Maker, I'm trying," he said instead humorlessly, and rolled from his side onto his back again. He wanted to close his eyes, but the thought of the pictures that would race beneath his eyelids held him back.

"It is late."

"I know."

"I should go."

Hawke tilted his head to look at Fenris again. "If you wish." Although now he was here, he would rather he didn't leave. Even if they were not speaking, the unbearable pressure weighing down on his chest was made somewhat more bearable if only by his presence.

Something akin to confusion seemed to trickle through Fenris's usually hardened features. He met Hawke's gaze, and Hawke could see the questions racing though his eyes. He waited listlessly for him to settle on one, because, knowing Fenris, Hawke knew that he _would_ ask. Something.

"Unless you would like me to stay?" He said it as though he was uncertain, and the unassurance in his eyes was not lost on Hawke.

It wasn't the question that he had been expecting, but it was one that was pleasant nonetheless. Perhaps Fenris could read the look in his eyes; had he been asking him to stay without meaning to? As much as he would prefer for Fenris to stay, if asking him to stay made him uncomfortable, Hawke did not wish to pass that off on anyone else except himself tonight.

It was for different reasons, certainly, but the last time that Fenris had been in his bedroom had ended in a less celebratory manner than he had expected. Something had made Fenris shrink from their time spent together, and even to this day, Hawke had not gotten an answer. He would not push, though. Fenris would open up on his own time.

Still, Hawke thought it necessary to point out the obvious. At least, to ask. "Will you be okay to stay?"

Fenris tilted his head. "I have no other pressing appointments tonight."

Hawke huffed, turning his head back to the canopy. "That is not what I meant."

"And still I said it." Fenris crossed his arms across his chest. "Do you wish me to stay or not?"

"Always, Fenris."

"Then, I will stay by your side."

For that comment, Hawke's lips did turn up at the corners; a variation of things that Fenris said to him in idle conversation on the battlefield. This, too, was a battlefield, and he suspected that Fenris thought so as well.

"Sleep," Fenris continued. "If you dream, I will be here."

 _That_ was not something Hawke heard on the battlefield. "You sleep, too," he said, rolling over. "It has been a long day."

"Indeed."

Hawke slept easier this time, although with no less success of staying asleep. The only difference this time was when he awoke, there were thin, lyrium-etched fingers dragging through his hair. He didn't open his eyes, aware that if he did, it may shatter the illusion; Fenris would pull away and return to their strange state of suspended relationship. It wasn't a thing Hawke had the strength to lament right now, but the feel of Fenris's fingers in his hair was a comforting thing.

He was certain that the elf had to know that he was awake, although Hawke didn't break the silence. It was, in the end, Fenris who spoke, rumbling some vowels and consonants beneath his breath. Hawke forgot that he was supposed to be being silent, and opened his eyes. "What was that?"

"You are eavesdropping," Fenris replied moodily.

"And you're speaking the language I don't understand," Hawke replied.

Fenris's fingers brushed a patch of hair behind Hawke's ear and then removed themselves, hands folding in his own lap. "It is Tevine. An ancient language."

"Your language," Hawke said.

"Yes."

"What did you say?"

Fenris was silent. Brooding into the silence; Hawke expected that he wouldn't get an answer for the question, so he closed his eyes again and tugged the pillow closer. Again Fenris moved with him, but instead of tugging on the pillow, he reached for the blanket and pulled it up over Hawke.

"The fire has gone out. It has gotten cold," Fenris explained, settling the blanket around Hawke's midriff.

"Thank you."

"... I said ‘your strength is admirable’. And enviable."

"Doubtful," Hawke murmured. He was drifting again already, the press of the blankets against his skin and the thread count of the pillow against his cheek. Fenris nearby. His mind was exhausted; perhaps he would sleep for hours this time.

"I do not waste time with idle untruths," Fenris said. "Now sleep, before I am forced to make you."

Hawke may have laughed at the threat - one Fenris was capable of fulfilling, he was sure - had he not been drifting off already.

He did not dream.

When he woke, Fenris was tending the fire. A light had gone from Hawke's life, but perhaps it wasn't as dim as it had seemed only just last night.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Leeeaaannnddrraaa... T___T Well, that bit made me sad. 
> 
> I'm into Act 3 now, so Fenris and I have cleared the awkward you-left-after-sex-are-we-or-aren't-we part of our relationship and it was cute and sexy and wonderful, so the roller coaster of emotion in this game is wild. I have a feeling it's going to get bad again, and I will cry some more, and probably write some more fanfiction. We shall see (who am I kidding I am so loving fenhawke of course i'm going to write more fenhawke)
> 
> I do not own _Dragon Age II_. Thanks for reading!


End file.
